


Ponzi Schemes & Mann Acts

by Merzibelle



Series: Tim's Day Off [5]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merzibelle/pseuds/Merzibelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's day off is started too early by Senior... then Tim delivers some surprising news...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ponzi Schemes & Mann Acts

**Author's Note:**

> Like the previous stories in this series, this is a result of that very tempting line from the recent NCIS episode "Alibi" (Season 11, Episode 8) where Tim told Tony: "You have no idea what I do on my time off." This one is for Merucha who wanted to see Senior finally get caught and go down for something.

**Ponzi Schemes & Mann Acts**

Grumbling about phone calls at unholy hours on his first day off in weeks, Tony flipped open his cellphone and mumbled into it. “DiNozzo.”

_“Junior!”_

“Dad?” Just the sound of his father’s voice was enough to completely wake Tony from his sleepy doze. He frowned and scooted up the bed. He absently stroked Emily’s back in order to soothe his on and off lover back to sleep. “What do you want?”

_“You need to come to Hoover and tell them they have the wrong man!”_ Senior’s voice was almost shrill as he shouted into the phone. “ _Aimee’s twenty-two… and you gave me that money…”_

“Dad…” Tony started but then he stopped. Did he really want to deal with his father’s drama again? He knew for a fact that with one exception all of his father’s lady friends were getting younger and younger by the year. If he tried to help his father out of whatever mess he’d gotten tangled in this time, he could potentially lose the job he loved. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

_“Are you even listening to me, Junior? That geek you work with keeps giving these badly dressed men papers. They read’em and frown at me. My lawyer won’t even take my calls. Get down here and fix this!”_

Just hearing that Tim was involved told Tony this was serious. Tim was the best hacker bar none outside the FBI. He thought for a moment and then asked a question of his own. “McGee working with a flamboyant blonde?”

_“Yeah. What’s that got to do with it? You need to come down here before I lose my new deal…”_

“I’m going back to bed, Dad.” Tony knew that Tim would explain everything to him at a saner hour of the morning. “Once I know more, I’ll decide if it’s worth it for me to help you.” Then he calmly punched the button to shut off the phone. He’d rather get slapped upside the head by Gibbs then listening to his father rant at him. He tossed the phone away and settled back into bed. He then smiled as his sleepy lover kissed him and provided a very nice distraction of her own until he was able to sleep.

*******

Hours later, having seen Emily off to her weekend posing session with several kisses, Tony finally turned his phone back on and frowned at the mass of texts and voicemails from his father. He sorted through the increasingly threatening messages before finally giving up and just deleting them all without listening to the rest. A soft knock, familiar from many a visit for movie nights, distracted Tony from his contemplative stare at his turned off television. A soft sigh escaped him. He rose and opened the door. “Come in, Probie.”

“I…” Tim shook his head and just handed over a stack of papers, a folder and a thick manila envelope. He sprawled in the armchair and nodded to the papers. “Just read it. I’ll answer questions when you’re done.”

“Tim…?”

“Read Tony.”

Accepting the order while wondering when Tim started channeling Gibbs’s attitude, Tony settled in to read the paperwork he’d been handed. The top stack was far too familiar from their jobs. A charge sheet listing a variety of statutes and how many violations of each statute occurred. Several of the statutes listed, all federal ones, caused him to frown in thought. Setting those aside, he flipped open the folder and began reading summary sheets from a variety of investigations – FBI, IRS, ATF, Interpol, and even Mossad – each one supporting the charge sheet he’d read first. Tony tossed the folder onto the other stack of pages and pulled the paperwork out of the envelope.

These papers were the most familiar. Pages and pages of Tim’s familiar style of reporting on his computer searches which summarized all his technical work in layman’s terms. Tony knew from experience that the missing technical details would be appended at the end of the report. He skimmed the pages and sighed heavily.

“He’s well and truly caught his time?”

“Yes.”

“And me…?”

“Nothing. You’re not implicated at all in any of his schemes or actions.” Tim released a sigh of his own, clearly one of relief, and leaned forward in his chair. “He was caught because my accountant works in the same firm as your previous one. Yours had been caught getting kickbacks for falsifying paperwork. Mine was asked to go over all the accounts and check for irregularities. When he started finding them, he asked for my help to sort the mess out…”

“What you’ve been doing on your days off and coming in exhausted on Monday?”

“Yes. I…” Tim paused and shoved a hand through his hair. “Your father, with the active cooperation of your accountant, has been skimming money from all your accounts. Not just your trust funds from your mother and grandparents but your current retirement accounts. I’m sorry I had to…”

“Tim, white collar crime like that doesn’t get this kind of charge sheet or international cooperation.” Tony grabbed the charge sheets and waved them between them. “What’d he do that you’re dancing around?”

“Remember when you commented about how your father’s girlfriends were getting younger with each change?”

“Yeah.” Tony shook his head. “What’s that got to do with it?”

“Aimee isn’t twenty-two. He helped her get false identification, brought her to the states and then got her to sign over to him her inheritance.” Tim rose to his feet and crossed over to Tony’s small kitchen bar. He poured a drink and brought it to Tony. “You’ll want this…”

“Probie?” Tony took the glass and cradled it in his hands. “What. Did. He. Do?”

“He left her with one of his ‘business associates’, a Sheikh from Dubai. When she freaked out, the staff at the hotel interfered….”

“Ah hell…”

“Yeah.” Tim crouched down in front of him. He rested a hand on Tony’s knee. “So, he’s going down on three levels. Gibbs is off yelling at people to get your money back for you but will meet you at the range later so you can work off the anger. None of his crimes will touch you.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.” Tim rose and offered a hand. “Come’n. We’ll go shoot targets then meet up with Emily. I know the artist she’s working with today. He’s hoping you’ll show up because ‘Emily lights up’ when you arrive.”

Tony considered his friend’s hand for a moment. He looked at the papers he held in his hand. Once again he read the many, many charges related to the Mann Act – transporting young women across state lines for immoral purposes… a nice way of saying being a pimp or human trafficker – and took in a deep breath. He released it explosively. “What about these?”

“Copies.” Tim smiled. “They can go in your safe here before we leave. I’m sure you’re going to read them in detail later. So…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Tony took Tim’s hand and let himself be pulled up off the sofa. He gathered up the papers and nodded. “Relax. I’ll dress and we’ll go.” He started toward his bedroom but stopped just as he reached the door. “Thanks, Probie.”

“No problem, Tony.”


End file.
